Damaged
by mist8ke
Summary: Mozzie's found someone that can get the anklet off of Neal. Neal's charms are going to land him in trouble. AU story set after Kate.
1. Chapter 1

Neal Caffrey loved all things art.

So when he heard that the new surrealist exhibition was within him 2 mile radius, he was ecstatic. The last time he saw a real Magritte was while he was in Belgium. Although the whole surrealist movement was fractionally better than the pop art movement, he could still appreciate it. It would also help him sharpen his skills to look at new styles.

As he observed a painting by Dali he heard a young woman's voice explaining Magritte's _The Treachery of Images_ to what looked like a group of school children.

"Magritte was not only an artist but he was also in a way a philosopher. See, his rational was that no matter how real this pipe looked, it was still not a real pipe. Hence the line 'Ceci n'est pas une pipe'.

She continued to speak about the painting and Magritte's other painting and his penchant for bowler hat or 'chapeau melon' as she called them. Neal observed her and was captivated by how passionate she was about this painting. He could appreciate some of the older time period arts but anything past the impressionism period was a mystery to him.

She was dressed sharply in a dark green suit and skirt piece that was the gallery uniform. Her dark hair was tied back to show her slim neck. She was fairly short and small that she almost blended in with the older student.

He moved on to the other paintings and observed Duchamp's defiled Mona Lisa. This was something he would never understand. However, he did appreciate the guts of this artist for passing a urinal as a piece of art. Now that was an impressive con.

By the time he has finished his round of all the paintings, he realised it was almost closing time for the gallery and the young gallery attendant stood in front of a Miro.

"Still Life with Old Shoe, Miro's attempt to escape reality to recreate his own," he began in an oh-so-savant tone of voice.

"I think all artists try to make something more… just more than reality to escape," she mumbled as she looked away from the painting to the man standing next to her.

He was handsome. Stunning even. His light blue eyes contrasted his dark hair and instantly made her freeze. Not that it was unusual to see handsome man in this big city, but they just never spoke to her. She was plain, she was plain compared to the plan ones.

"I'm Neal," he said breaking their unintentional stare off and offering her his hand.

"El-"she never got to finish as he kissed the hand she offered for a, what she assumed, was a handshake.

"Elle," Neal pronounce in a French accent. "Very feminine"

Elle, as she will not refer to herself as, snorted. In the least lady like fashion.

Neal found that peculiar but none the less adorable in a girly and natural way.

"Listen, I know you have to close up soon, but I was looking forward to see Ernst exhibition," he slid in the last bit of detail nonchalantly.

"I… I can bring you to see it, the restoration was done a few hours ago," Elle replied and eager to please him. His charming smile was more than enough to convince her.

As Neal looked at Ernst work, the one he wanted to forge. While he did so he knew Elle was chattering away, he didn't bother to listen to any of it. It didn't take long for her to notice and shut up. A few minutes of silence passed and Elle realised that he had tricked her. Well, her fault for being a sucker for the good looking ones.

After huffing a little and a small display of impatience, Neal looked at her with an innocent smile.

"Hey, I know this great Italian place," he began as they walked out of the exhibition. "How about we exchange information?"

Flustered, Elle readily accommodated him and they exchanged numbers. Once again, as Neal stop aiming his devilish smile at her she came to her senses and realised that he had technically not asked her out. He only stated two things. This was high school all over again.

A week later…

"Neal!" Mozzie said excitedly as he awkwardly carried an open laptop towards him, running.

"Mozzie, calm down," he told Mozzie. "What's got you all… like this?"

"I am frazzled because I have just come across the most infamous hacker of the 21st century, he goes by the name of 2BRO2B, and they are willing to help you with the anklet…. For a price of course."

"Mozzie, that's great news!" Neal exclaimed happily. His eyes lit up as he thought of the possible freedom. "When can we meet this hacker?"

"See, that's the thing. If you think I am paranoid and against the man, well then you are in for a surprise. 2B is on a whole new level of unreliable. He once crashed the stock exchange for fun and the very next day too responsibility for hacking into a school server and deleting all the grades. He doesn't usually take bribes but I told him I had a Renoir."

"Do we have a Renoir?" Neal asked curiously.

Moz continued to type away on his laptop and seemed fairly frustrated. He ignored Neal's last comment and continued to bargain with 2B.

"Alright!" Mozzie said excitedly and pumped his fist in the air.

"When and where are we meeting then?" Neal asked coolly.

"Yeah…. About that. I don't know."

While Neal gave Mozzie an incredulous look, across the city 2BRO2B sat at the computer looking up things about Mozzie and his friend. When she finished her search, she contemplated helping but in the end decided that getting her hands on a Renoir was definitely worth it.

It was around 8pm, while Neal and Mozzie were talking over wine when they heard a knock on the door.

"Peter?" Neal called out while Mozzie froze on the spot and looked around for a hiding place.

"I sure hope not," a girl replied.

Neal opened the door curiously and before he had the chance to say anything, she pushed past the door and walked into the room.

"Elle!" Neal called out shocked and a little curious. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"Your friend here asked me to come," she replied avoiding his eyes. She was both too embarrassed and too annoyed at him to look at him.

"2B!" Mozzie greeted happily. "You came!"

"Yep, couldn't resist the Renoir and the chance to be the first to crack the new tracking technology," she reasoned.

Neal looked her once over and was shocked how young she looked. Out of the uniform in jeans and a raggedy t-shirt, she looked like a hacker. Her hair was loosed and it was definitely in need of a good conditioning. It was hard to match the Elle he met with this 2BRO2B.

"So…" Neal began still in shock. "What's with the alias? I mean come on Shakespeare? A little cliché don't you think?"

"Vonnegut actually and it reminds me of the stupidity of human pride," she looked up at him meaningfully. "It doesn't hurt that it's also a fictional number that, once called, would lead to the person's death."

"So, let me see the anklet," she asked him as she bent down and pulled at his pants. Neal looked at her shocked that she just manhandled him.

"So, what do I call you?" Neal asked curiously.

"You don't," she replied bluntly. She went by the name of Laney but Neal didn't have to know.

Neal decided to turn off his charms since it was obviously not working the way it was supposed to be.

"Seeing as how you know each other," Mozzie began. "I'm going to go collect the payments."

Neal and Laney moved to the couch where she plugged in laptop into the anklet and began typing away, silently. The chip was high tech but not the newest technology. It was easily bypassed by simulating the GPS signal on her laptop.

"And I am done!"

She typed in the last few codes and the anklet opened.

"I think I love you," Neal said in a truthful tone but did not really mean it, as usual.

Laney laughed humourlessly.

"How about that dinner I promised you?" Neal asked charmingly. "I can finally go to that new Italian restaurant that is outside of my radius."

"Free meal," Laney spoke her thought out loud. "Beats ramen noodles for another night."

Neal borrowed one of June's cars and helped Laney into the car. He was acting very chivalrous and Laney reasoned that for her hard work, he better pamper her. Although the work was not really all that hard.

The restaurant was cozy and very Italian. IT was also very fancy and probably expensive. Laney suddenly felt underdressed. There was a lineup that looked like it would take hours to get though. However, as it always is with Caffrey, he had a connection. A man started towards them grinning.

"Fabio!" Neal greeted as he entered the restaurant. The chef and most likely owner walked towards them and offered Neal a warm handshake and Laney a kiss on the cheek.

"Nick!" Fabio greeted. "And who is this beautiful young woman?"

"Fabio, this is my friend Elle," Neal, or rather Nick greeted.

"Sebastien!" Fabio called over a server. "Please seat my friends and I want them to receive the best service."

Sebastien nodded and led them away.

Dinner was a nice and quiet affair. While Laney had a hard time really appreciating the full exquisiteness of the food, she could enjoy the ambience. Neal had taken the liberties of ordering for her when he realised that she was staring blankly at the menu.

"So tell me, how is it that a computer hacker works part-time at an art museum?" he began.

"Well, unlike some people, I do not have the capabilities to steal an artwork. So what better way to enjoy masterpieces? Also, I need some cash for food and other amenities."

Neal thought it over and knew that she was either struggling to make ends meet or was making money on the side.

"Neal… tell me, I'm curious. What do you plan on doing once you are free?" she asked.

"Buy an island and live like a king," Neal decided quite happily.

"Good plan," she admitted. "But what about your record? You'll be hunted for the rest of your life"

"Only if they find me," Neal said smoothly.

Once dinner was over, Neal decided to take Laney to a gallery. Keeping with the Italian themed night he took her to an Italian Futurism art show. He thought she'd enjoy it.

Laney was impressed at the number of places Neal could get to with his charms and good looks. To say she was envious was an understatement. She could get used to living this way.

By the time they got back to the house, Mozzie was sitting at the dining table looking very distraught.

"Guys!" Mozzie called annoyed. "Where have you been? I couldn't get to the Renoir. It was in Wednesday and the mob decided to settle a block away from it. I can't get in."

"Well then…" Laney mumbled quietly. "Listen, I'm not much for charity. Especially not when I was looking forward to that painting."

"We can work something out," Neal said as he began to get nervous. It didn't show but he was.

"Sure, give me the painting or this goes back on," Laney said strictly. But as she saw Neal's slight reaction to the news she began to feel bad. He wasn't a terrible person and she was in no position to judge a white collar criminal.

"So…. What now?"

"I want this," Laney said suddenly.

"This?" Mozzie asked curiously.

"The lifestyle that I could never afford. Not forever, of course. Just until you get my painting. For now, I'm going to enjoy not housing with a bunch of hackers who don't shower or cook."

Laney took a seat on the couch and cracked open her laptop. After a few lines of code the anklet flashed for a second. Neal looked at the anklet on the floor and froze.

"What are you doing?" he asked her seriously.

"Making sure this bargain doesn't go wrong again. After all, you know how to con people, but I know how to hack people. Mozzie, could you go to 49th street and Park to that old warehouse and ask Houdini for my bag. I need some clothes."

Mozzie left without being told twice. Neal grinned fakely at her and Laney returned it as well as she got.

"I'm going to go take a shower and then head to bed," Laney told him bluntly and walked into the wash room.

To say that Neal Caffrey always got the best was again an understatement. The shower was great and for once the showerhead was not covered in rust. She really liked this life already.

As she walked out of the bathroom in her old clothing, hoping Moz would be ready with her other clothes. Moz was there, but he was also in a heated whisper argument with Neal.

"-painting is in storage?!" Neal whispered.

"Trick her…" Moz whispered back.

There was a pause.

"It wouldn't be hard," Moz mumbled.

"So what? I make her fall for me and she leaves willingly? This plan could go wrong in so many ways Moz," Neal whispered.

"Any better plans?"

Again a pause.

"Fine,"

Laney waited a few more minutes before she walked out of the bathroom and made enough noise to get their attention.

"Hey! Mozzie, is that my bag?" she asked happily.

"Yep, Houdini said this was it,"

She grabbed the bag and threw it on the couch and grabbed some clothes for bed. She headed back to the bathroom and changed.

As she plopped down onto the bed, Neal looked like he might just get an aneurism.

"You're taking my bed," he stated.

"The futon right there looks comfy," Laney replied.

"Or I could join you in bed," Neal replied with a wink. Laney felt a blush creep up her neck. So it begins, they both thought. This was going to be interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

The bed was almost too comfortable to get up from. Laney woke to the smell of coffee and pastries. There was a slight breeze in the room and the light was shining into the room already. It was probably around 9, if she had to guess.

"Good morning," Neal greeted her as he walked into the room with the paper in one hand and the other hand ran through his hair. He was wearing only a wine coloured pair of pants. He had a charming smile on his face.

He was handsome and he knew it, Laney repeated to herself as she pulled her eyes away from him.

"Where's breakfast?" Laney asked curiously as she headed to the washroom to splash some water on her face and pulled on a summer dress. If she was going to live in style she would dress in style.

"Right this way," Neal led her as she walked out of the bathroom. "Slept well last night?"

"Very,"

"Something had me twisting and turning, if you care to know. And it wasn't because of that thing that passes as a bed," the innuendo was present, even though it was subtle and by the looks of it Neal did it on purpose.

"No idea what you mean," Laney deflected. "I'm hungry."

"Me too," Neal said while looking at her with smoldering eyes.

"For food," she expanded. Laney turned around and walked to the patio after rolling her eyes at him, Neal knew he had to play it down a bit. She was either on to him or really not a morning person. None the less, he had other things to worry about, like facing Peter and solving Kate's murder.

While Laney ate the delicious pastries, Neal sat there sipping at his espresso and skimming the papers. Occasionally, he would look up and observe her, hoping to find what she liked and didn't. When she caught his eyes he smiled innocently at her.

"I'm done," she declared, pushing away the uneaten half of her almond croissant, and then added. "I've lost my appetite."

He shrugged off the comment and folded away his paper gracefully.

"I had a nice time," Neal said kindly before standing up and offering her his arm. "Shall we prepare for out day and part ways?"

Laney looked up at him incredulously. Only he could make something this corny sound normal.

When Neal finally left for his FBI job or community service, as Laney called it, and some other 'errands'.

She decided to take the morning to look over the house and possibly make life a little more difficult for him. Finally she opted to do something spiteful to relieve the sheer embarrassment she had to face from Neal's flirting.

Finally, she settled on accidentally spilling nail polish remover on one of his paintings. It was a beautiful painting of a woman. It was fairly recent and probably not worth much, but it sure would piss him off.

By noon, she ordered some pizza and admired her handy work at destroying this painting.

That afternoon her phone started to ring. She assumed it was someone from the Cave, which was what people called the room filled with computers that she lived at.

"Hello," she answered in a sing song voice. "Laney speaking, how may I be of service?"

There was a short and distinctly masculine chuckle and she knew instantly who it was.

"Caffrey…." She said his name in a bored tone contrasting her previous cheery tone.

"Listen, I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I need your help, again," there was a pause. Then he added, "Please."

Despite her dislike for him, there was something in his voice that got her curiosity.

"Alright, what is it?" she asked curiously.

"I need you to access a voice recording from the cockpit of plane that departed from New York on March 9th from the NTSB in Washington or the FAA."

"Yeah sure," she replied after a moment. "I need something to keep me busy."

"Thanks." He said sincerely. "I mean it."

Once she hung up the phone, Laney began to immediately type away on her computer. She decided to go all out and make herself untraceable. Who knows what he was asking her to find.

It was really an easy job, within 20 minutes she had the audio file and decided to go make herself some tea before listening to the audio.

Nervous and curious of what the audio could hold, she finally decided to play the audio. It wasn't a long one and it certainly didn't end the way she was expecting. It ended abruptly and as far as she knew, the only way the audio would stop would be if the plane had crashed. She felt herself shiver at the possibilities and decided to look further into it.

About an hour into her research and Laney was about ready to write a romantic tragedy that gave Shakespeare a run for his money. The plane with the love of his life had exploded while she was inside and Neal was about to get himself killed by finding her killer.

On her previous search of Caffrey, she had learned about his penchant for expensive art, but also his penchant for being a vigilante sometimes. He wasn't a complete jerk. Just a kid who was given a though life and then told to survive. But nothing on that quick search prepared her for what she was about to see.

Aside from looking into Kate, Neal and Adler's past, she also continued to dig into Fowler and his associations with a Mystery Man. When she reached information on the Mystery Man, she realised that she was way out of her league. This man was associated with some pretty scary things and he was well connected as well.

She quickly backed out of her hacking of the Mystery Man and returned to look at Kate and Neal's past. They were made for each other. Both beautiful and clever. But there was something wrong with Kate's past. Despite everything she's read it was odd that she would embark on a plane knowing about the bomb or at least some plan that Neal didn't know about. In a way, she was beginning to sympathise with Neal.

Just as she was about to take a break from the tragedy, the ruined painting caught her eye. The woman with beautiful blue eyes. A quick search gave her a picture of Kate and she felt an immense amount of guilt.

She had to hide it and fix it.

Just as that thought appeared, she heard someone coming up the stairs. She took the canvas and shoved it into her bag and wrapped it with an old shirt. The door opened and she turned around quickly, smiling.

"Hi, you," she greeted.

"Hey," Neal replied cautiously. "You're in a good mood."

"Hacking the man does that to me," she explained. Just as she finished saying this, Mozzie walked in.

"Moz," Laney greeted.

"2B," Moz replied. He helped himself to a Merlot and brought out 3 glasses.

"The recording?" Neal asked impatiently.

"Right," Laney agreed reluctantly. She cracked open her laptop and copied the file to a USB stick. "You owe me."

Neal nodded and the gratefulness was obvious in his eyes. The only honest thing about him was his eyes and that was only when he allowed it.

After Laney declined the wine, she bailed out saying that she was busy at work and needed to also grab some more clothes. Neither Moz nor Neal blinked at this since they were both distracted and wanted privacy to hear the audio. Laney couldn't blame them and she didn't want to since they didn't even look at her bag.

When she left, Laney headed towards the gallery. There was an art restoration area and she could borrow it for what she was about to do. She needed to fix the painting, pronto. She did not want to feel like a vengeful bitch. Which, in a way she was, but Neal didn't need to know.

Since Laney's art skills only went as far as critiquing the art so she had to research how to restore paintings before actually starting which took some time. Even when she began painting, she used the laptop to determine the colour of the paint. This was going to take a while.

Meanwhile Neal and Mozzie prepared to listen to the audio. As the audio played, the emotions on his face were obvious. He was in pain and then there was a feeling of betrayal. Moz tried his best to sympathize while remaining objective.

When they finished listening to it, they both felt the need to stew over what they heard. Mozzie excused himself and headed home. Neal took his place on the futon and stared blankly at the ceiling.

After a while his eyes closed but unconsciousness was still nowhere to be found. He heard the door open and felt light enter his eyes.

Great, the little tyrant was back. She made Peter look like a less demanding person.

There was shuffling and a thud, as she dropped her bag near the bed. From there he couldn't understand what she was doing. He didn't want her to know he was on to her so he stayed still. When she began to move around his paintings Neal tensed.

Laney had taken time to appreciate her art before getting here. She had all the time in the world while the paint was drying. It wasn't too bad. Unless he looked too closely.

She put the canvas back between the other ones and breathed a sigh of relief.

"You really shouldn't become a burglar," Neal said from behind her.

"Holy sh-" she exclaimed as she spun around to be met with Neal's chest. He was wearing a white t-shirt but she could feel the heat coming out of his body.

"So…" he asked teasingly. "What's the story?"

"I was…" she paused. "I accidentally ruined the painting and went to fix it."

Neal looked at her mischievously. He knew something she didn't.

"Yes, you accidentally spilled nail polish remover on only one painting that was across the room from your nail polish," he reasoned with her mockingly. "So tell me, did you decide to fix the painting before or after you listened to the file?"

Laney stared at him with her mouth open. You just couldn't con a con man.

"How did you know?" she whispered shocked.

"Oh, you left a place on the table near your nail polish the exact dimensions as the canvas and about the file, I just guessed," he said seriously but there was a slight tinge of humour and pride.

Neal moved to look at the painting. The room was dark so it was hard to see how well she fixed it. But from the looks of it, it was a fairly nice job.

"Listen," Laney started once she couldn't stand the silence. "I was annoyed about your flirting and wanted to teach you a lesson, of sort. But I didn't know it was Kate. I'm sorry."

"How much do you know about Kate?" Neal asked curiously as he put the painting back and settled back on the couch.

"I did some digging," she mumbled.

Neal looked conflicted and his eyes hardened. She avoided his eyes and started to take some stuff from her bags to get ready for bed.

"I'm sorry about the painting…" she repeated. "And about Kate too…."

With that she decided to head into the washroom to get ready for bed. By the time she was clean and dressed for bed, she checked on Neal, who looked like he was asleep.

She knelt down to be at face level with him and observed his face. He was still handsome, but when his face was relaxed, he seemed a lot more average. Like an everyday man. A man who didn't deserve to go through what he's gone through.

"I'm sorry for what you've gone through," Laney whispered. "Sleep tight."


	3. Chapter 3

Neal and Laney spent the week in what could only be called a temporary cease fire. Neither of them mentioned anything personal or threatened to do anything extreme to the other. They would get breakfast in the morning together and have some small talk and them they would part ways.

Laney has come to terms with Mozzie's peculiarity and they have minimized the arguments and conspiracy debates to a 2 per day daily quota.

"Morning Caffrey," Laney called out as she walked out onto the veranda. It started getting colder nowadays so she started to steal, or rather borrow without asking, his robes.

"Hey sleepy head," he greeted kindly. In a way, he had stopped his obvious charming of her and opted to simply treat her like family. The teasing included. "Espresso?"

"No caffeine for me," she replied as she poured herself some juice. "Anything interesting _chez_ The Man?"

"You have been spending way too much time with Mozzie," Neal stated in a mock displeasure. "But if you must know, just a lot of mortgage fraud and paper work."

"Fun," she said sarcastically.

"What about you? Going to create problems for the Man?" Neal joked.

"Unfortunately I will not be sitting on the couch destroying the government today. I've got a shift at the museum. The Impressionist's exhibition is in this month. It's going to be beautiful!"

"I highly doubt that, impressionist's sacrifice beauty for expression in their artwork. The details are nonexistent-

Before Neal could finish, Laney cut him off by throwing a piece of her pastry at him.

"Hey! Watch the clothes, its Devore,"

"Then don't diss the Impressionists! People pay to see their artwork," she argued.

"Well, I can appreciate its value," Neal said with a smirk.

Laney glared at him, "You better not even think about stealing from the museum I work at, or any museum for that matter."

"I would never," he said seriously. But the glimmer in his eyes brought doubt to Laney.

Laney finished her breakfast and excused herself. Neal wished her a good day and they both left the house.

The day for Neal Caffrey was uneventful, a few frauds where he had to identify forged signatures or fake identities and a lot of paperwork. He let his mind wander to his life and the changes that have occurred.

It reminded him of that time when Peter when undercover as an auditor. Despite the lavish lifestyle, he chose to stay as he was. Neal didn't think he would do the same thing as Peter. If he were ever given another chance, he would leave the FBI and buy a castle in Europe or an island somewhere warm and sunny. He wondered briefly which Laney would like, neither probably.

From what he could see, she was quite capable of using a computer to make herself a very rich woman. But she didn't and opted to work at a job that rarely allowed her to sit down. Little did he know, at that very moment, Laney was enjoying the silence and the ambiance of the beautiful museum, surrounded by Renoir.

"Neal!" Peter called out from his office.

This snapped him out of his daze.

"Yes Peter?" he asks innocently.

"Come to my office," he ordered.

Neal opted to stand and stare down at Peter. Peter sighed at this act of defiance.

"Is there something you'd like to share with me?" Peter asked sighing. "You've been distracted all morning. What are you up to?"

"Nothing," Neal said offended.

"And you know nothing about the stolen Nazi artifacts?"

"No," Neal said, but this time his face was a stone mask. "Is that all?"

"Yes, for now" Peter said and allowed him to leave.

Neal left the bureau a little annoyed and decided that a nice bottle of wine would cheer him up.

As he got home, June was just about to take the dog out for a walk and she greeted him.

"Oh Neal! Your new girlfriend is simply adorable," she gushed.

Neal nodded and smiled awkwardly.

He was surprisingly not appalled at the idea of being in a relationship with Laney. Sure she lacked a certain sophistication and hated his lack of boundaries when it came to stealing. But she was useful in her own way and enjoyed art and was a generally decent citizen which held some appeal to Neal.

"Honey, I'm home!" Neal joked as he walked in to see Laney in his kitchen frying something.

"… Aren't we just the picture of domestic bliss," she said sarcastically.

"Is that grilled cheese?" Neal asked a little appalled but also very curious.

"Yep, and there is freshly cut veggie sticks in the fridge," Laney said happily.

"What are we, five?" Neal joked.

"Oh shut up, will you please get out the plates?"

Neal complied and started to get the plates, take out the vegetable sticks and a bottle of wine.

"Wine?" he asks.

"No, I don't drink," Laney mumbled quietly feeling a little unsophisticated. But grilled cheese and orange juice was a thing.

"Okay," Neal said unabashed and went on to find something else. "Milk, sparkling water, juice?"

"Juice, please"

"Yep, I feel like I am a kid again," Neal said a little bitterly but opted to pour himself a glass of juice as well.

"What about your wine?" she asked curiously.

"Doesn't exactly go well with the whole kid's meal we've got tonight," he reasoned. "I really feel like I'm five again."

Laney sat down to eat and smiled at Neal as she bit into a celery stick.

"I can't imagine mini-Caffrey. You must have been a charmer," Laney teased.

"Mini-Caffrey was actually quite ordinary," Neal told her modestly. "Got teased on the playground and scrapped his knees a lot"

"I highly doubt anything about you is ordinary," she told him honestly.

"True," he admitted. "I wasn't completely ordinary. I was in witness protection with my mom. But other than that I was a normal kid. Until I came to New York."

"What were you like as a kid?" she asked conversationally.

"I was shorter than the other kids and not quite as good looking. I wanted to be Spiderman for most of 6th grade and had this terrible gap between my teeth." He joked.

"Joke all you want Neal Caffrey but despite telling the truth with a facetious tone I know it's the truth. I've got pictures!" she grinned at him.

Neal was speechless for a moment and wondered if he had walked into her trap. But she wasn't that cunning to trick him, was she? Probably just pure luck and good timing.

"Since you know everything about me, tell me something about you?"

"There is really not much to tell," she mumbled quietly and resumed eating her grilled cheese.

"This is hardly fair," he reasoned.

"Well, I grew up in Canada, mom still lives there. She think I'm in university studying business and technology or something. I mean, the technology part is true" she told him candidly.

"Canada… is it nice there?" he asked her curiously.

"It' Canada, I mean it's the same as this place but more Canadian… Have you ever been?" she asked.

"I'm questioning you, nice try," he teased. "So, what about high school? How did you end up here?"

"You really want me to bore you?" she asked cocking her head to one side. He nodded. "Fine, I was a nerd in high school and kept to myself. I never took any art classes but I liked to enjoy the arts and entertainments. After high school, I became disillusioned with pursuing an education and started to hang around internet cafes. Turns out math skills were useful in those places. Learned a few things and began to get creative."

"That's it?" he asked.

"Yep," she said popping her 'p'.

"You don't have any criminal associations?" he asked curiously. "No tragic backstory?"

"Well we can't all be Neal Caffrey," she joked. "I actually only freelance when reliable sources call on me. Apparently Mozzie is very well known in some circles."

"So, aside from enjoying post-impressionist art; what else do you like?" he asked conversationally.

"Not much really, I don't have time but when I do I waste it watching TV shows." She replied bashfully.

"Dramas?" he asked amused.

"Sci-Fi," she replied appalled at his mention of Dramas.

"Wanna watch some?" he asked suddenly.

"Sure?" she agreed a little curious at his sudden excitement. "I'll clean up and you put something on then."

Neal went to his room and came out with a DVD set and was in a t-shirt and jogging pants, grinning as he held up the DVD.

As they settled on the couch, Caffrey put in a DVD into the player and felt himself truly relaxed for once. While sitting in front of the TV was not his favourite thing in the world, being able to simply sit with someone amicably was rare. Especially if it were a woman.

They sat down as Firefly began to play and Laney grinned in approval.

Neal let his mind wander as he marvelled the fact that he was once again in limbo with a woman that was probably going to ruin his life. He thought back at past relationships and decided that it was not going to happen again.

She was soft and warm. She lacked the menace and the cunning to actually harm him and she didn't have any ulterior motives.

He shifted his body so it faced her sideways and cast glances at her. She didn't notice.

But as the time passed, she began to get tired and leaned against him. He let her and even invited her to lean against his chest by wrapping his arms around her. She snuggled into him and he was shocked that it didn't make him uncomfortable. Aside from the thoughts that flitted through his mind which he quickly shut down.

"This is nice," she tells him sleepily. And soon, she was deep asleep.

Laney didn't remember much. She was really full form supper and was enjoying the TV show. It had been a while since she had such a nice evening. It didn't hurt that she fell asleep on a hunk. Speaking of said hunk, she felt around and realised that he was not on the couch any more.

She blinked a few times and opened her eyes to find Neal sitting by his easel painting. She smiled sadly and knew that he was most likely fixing a painting of Kate.

She wondered briefly why he didn't take the bed as he had tricked her into sleeping on the couch. But then again, she could never tell with him.

When she woke again, she found Neal on the easel but he was slumped over and sleeping. Quietly she stood up to inspect what he was doing.

She had to stifle a gasp as she realised that he was painting her, sleeping on the couch. It was beautiful and was painting in an impressionist era style. The moonlight shining through the room was made to look like a halo around her.

Her heart pounded and she wondered why he was painting her. She had to remind herself that it was still a ruse to get her to free him forever. And while she really just wanted to do that, she hated it when people like Caffrey getting what they wanted with simply a smile. She had to remember herself.

Taking a deep breath she walked back a bit and made sure she was not facing the painting when she woke him.

"Neal," she whispered. "Sitting there isn't good for you."

Neal woke up in a daze and his eyes widened suddenly. He quickly put the painting away and tried to make sure she didn't see it. Laney was curious why he didn't wanted her to see.

"In bed with you," she told him as wrapped an arm around her and led her to bed with him.

Again, she had to remind herself that it was all platonic and they still had a business deal.


End file.
